waiting his time before betraying them to the overseer.

"That's his way, Master Nic, and it always was. Once he had a grudge
agen a man he'd never forgive him," said Pete one night, "and he'd wait
his chance to serve him out. I never liked Humpy, and he never liked
me; zo, after all, it was six o' one and half-a-dozen o' the other."

"I can't help thinking that we are worrying ourselves about nothing,
Pete," replied Nic. "It's a case of the guilty conscience needing no
accuser."

"That it aren't, sir," said the man sturdily. "I aren't going to
believe you've got any guilty conscience, and there aren't nothing worse
on mine than a bit o' zalmon."

Nic smiled in the darkness, and Pete went on:

"Well, if you think like that, Master Nic, let's risk it. Old Humpy's
cunning enough, but p'raps two heads'll be better than one, and we can
beat him. What do you zay to trying, then?"

"Anything is better than this terrible suspense, Pete," said Nic. "I
did manage to bear my fate before, but the thought now of that boat
lying ready to carry us down the river is too much for me, and there are
moments when I feel as if I must say to you, `Come on; let's run down to
the river and dash in, risking everything.'"

"What! and them zee us go, Master Nic?"

"Yes; I am getting desperate with waiting."

"Wouldn't do, my lad. They'd chivvy us, them and the blacks and Humpy
and t'others. Why, bless you, nothing old Humpy would like better."

"I'm afraid so."

"That's it, zir, whether you're 'fraid or whether you bean't. And
s'posing we got the boat, what then, zir? Them seeing us and going
along by the bank shooting at us."

"We might lie down, Pete."

"Yes; and they'd send in half-a-dozen niggers to zwim to the boat and
bring it ashore. What do you say to that, zir?"

"That I'm half-mad to propose such a thing," replied Nic.

"Talk lower, zir. I can't hear old Humpy; but let's be on the lookout."

"Better give up all thought of getting away," said Nic despondently.

"Bah! Never zay die, Master Nic. Why, there's the old place at home
seeming to hold out its finger to us, beckoning-like, and zaying `Come,'
and once I do get back, you'll never ketch me meddling with no one's
zalmon again. But look here, zir, we thought it all out before, and I
don't see as we can better it."

"I feel hopeless, Pete."

"And I feel as if I've got 'nough o' that stuff in me for both. Wish we
could be hoeing together again,